An it Please the King
by Kylenne
Summary: FF6 - Setzer and Locke decide to surprise the King of Figaro on his birthday, only to have the tables turned. You know what they say about the best laid schemes. Yaoi: Setzer x Edgar x Locke.


(Author's Note: Regarding my use of language and Setzer's accent - I'm fully aware it's not canonical and may be jarring to some, but that's how I've "heard" his voice for going on 15 years and dozens of playthroughs of FF6 on three different systems now. We all have our personal bits of fanon, "Setzer talks like an aristocratic Remy LeBeau" is mine. Sorry if it weirds people out.)

* * *

Setzer Gabbiani peered down the stairwell of Figaro Castle's western tower, standing guard with the eyes of a hawk. Locke, his usual partner in the sort of chicanery he had planned for the evening, was crouching a few feet away, fiddling with the lock of an ornately carved door.

Setzer frowned, idly flipping a coin back and forth between his long, slender fingers. He glanced over at his friend, deftly working a long hairpin inside the lock with his brow furrowed in concentration. After a moment or so, Locke smiled, and creaked the door open.

"Excellent work, cher," Setzer complimented him with a grin, his upper-crust Albrooker drawl barely above a whisper. Locke winked in acknowledgment, and pulled a candle out of a small sack that lay on the floor beside him.

"Got a light?" he asked in a low tone. Setzer nodded, and reached inside his favorite black and gold captain's coat for his lucky lighter, tossing it to him. Locke lit the candle, picked up the sack, and walked inside. The gambler took one last look down the stairwell, and followed his friend into the royal apartment.

It was pitch black inside the large sitting room, the only source of light the small candle they carried. More importantly, it was empty save for the two of them.

"Good," Locke sighed in relief as he lit a pair of oil lamps to provide some meager light. "He must still be in the library."

"I told you not to worry," Setzer said with a grin, flipping his coin into a coat pocket, and knelt down by the large fireplace. "Gimme the lighter?"

Locke tossed him the lighter back, and pulled a few more candles out of the sack, methodically placing them around the lavishly decorated chambers. He lit them one by one, their soft light filling the apartment with a warm and inviting glow.

"I have a bad feeling about this, Setzer. It's never been this easy to sneak into the castle," he commented, shaking his head, his countenance marked by a distinct look of concern.

"You're worse than a woman, cher," Setzer drawled, setting the logs alight and working them with a poker. "Where's your sense of adventure, Monsieur Treasure Hunter?"

"Perfectly intact, Mr. Gabbiani, but it has limits…which is why I'm still alive. I just want to go on record with the opinion that this is one of your dumber schemes."

"Duly noted," Setzer began with a smirk, "however, I see nothing wrong with paying tribute to the king on his birthday." He rose to his feet and sauntered into the bedroom.

"Couldn't we have just taken him to the opera or something?" Locke rolled his eyes and followed Setzer through a set of double doors into the bedroom, lighting a few more candles.

"Surely you know me better than that by now, Locke," Setzer said with another smirk. The gambler had never been one to keep things simple. His _joie de vive_ almost demanded he do things with a certain flair for the dramatic. It was a rather cherished talent of his, and after all, he _did_ have a kind of reputation to uphold.

Setzer pulled a large leather pouch from one of his pockets, and approached the enormous, four-poster canopy bed which dominated the bedroom. He idly stroked one of the tall, mahogany posts, and drew back the curtains.

"What's in the pouch?" Locke asked curiously.

"An extra little surprise, is all."

Setzer winked at him, and pulled back the blankets to reveal satin sheets of pale red. So predictable, he thought to himself with a wicked smile. He emptied the pouch's contents—dozens and dozens of bright red and white rose petals—and scattered them across the bed. Locke smiled, and Setzer was suddenly struck by how stunning he was in the candlelight. He'd always believed him handsome, but there was something in the way his eyes gleamed in the dim light. There was something about that smile, mischievous and endearing, that warmed Setzer's heart.

"I should have guessed," Locke said, and removed the final contents from his sack. He rested a tin of strawberries and cream on one of the nightstands.

"I'm a hopeless romantic, what can I say? Ah, a brilliant touch stealing those." Setzer received a stony glare in return for his compliment.

"I didn't…steal…them."

Setzer laughed, and spread his hands wide.

"How insensitive of me. Of _course_ you didn't. You'd never steal, because you're not a thief."

"That's right," Locke said indignantly. Setzer laughed again, and crossed around the bed to join him.

"They just sort of found their way into that bag, after you passed through the kitchen, non?"

"I just borrowed some, that's all."

"Somehow, I doubt the cooks will want them back once we're finished with them."

"Alright, maybe I…commandeered them."Locke was sulking, and Setzer found it absolutely adorable. He leaned in close, gently took the treasure hunter's smooth cheeks into his golden-ringed hands, and smiled.

"It was thoughtful of you, cher. We both know how much he loves strawberries." Setzer kissed Locke softly, with a tenderness he reserved for only one other, and his demeanor softened. Locke melted into it, returning the kiss wholeheartedly.

"You're insufferable. Both of you," Locke said with a defeatist smile.

"But isn't that why you love us so?" Setzer grinned, and removed his coat, tossing it on a nearby armchair. "Come on, before he gets here."Locke nodded, and began to strip as well. In a matter of moments, both men were clad only in the candlelight.

Setzer stretched out on the bed, and Locke climbed in with him, resting his head on one of the satin pillows. Locke sighed contentedly, and twirled a silky, silver lock of Setzer's hair around a finger. It was a habit of his that Setzer rather enjoyed.

"This is nice," he mused aloud. Setzer smiled, then dipped one of the strawberries into the cream.

"Indeed," Setzer agreed, holding the cream-dipped berry aloft. Locke parted his lips, and Setzer slipped it into his mouth. He slowly, deliberately sucked the cream off, and Setzer found himself catching his breath. Locke had been quite the eager student in the arts of seduction, and had learned them quite well from the two miscreants he shared a bed with. _Perhaps a bit too well,_ Setzer thought to himself, and painfully squirmed. Much more of that, and their gift would be ruined rather quickly. Locke ate the strawberry, and closed his eyes.

"Delicious," he noted in approval. "They just don't grow them like this, outside of Figaro."

"Only the best for his Majesty," Setzer chuckled, and ate one himself, his free hand absently caressing Locke's skin.

"Gods, what's taking him so long?" Locke groaned impatiently. Apparently, Setzer wasn't the only one who couldn't wait much longer, and the thought filled him with mirth.

"He must have his nose stuck in one of his engineering books," Setzer remarked.

"Or one of the chambermaids," Locke scoffed. "But I'm sure _you_ approve." He was so adorable when he was jealous, Setzer thought. Which was often, considering who his lovers were.

"You knew what he was like, my love," Setzer gently chided him, "and what I'm like. Did you think to tame us?"

"I guess I did, in a way," Locke admitted. "It was silly of me."

Setzer leaned over and kissed him, running his fingers through his short, blonde hair.

"We can't help the way we are, cher."

The two lay in silence on the rose petals, snuggled together for warmth in the brisk chill of the desert evening. After a long few moments, Setzer finally heard footsteps in the sitting room.

"Your Majesty?" a high-pitched, Vectoran-accented and distinctly female voice called out. Setzer swore under his breath, and Locke looked sharply at him in panic.

"What are we gonna do?" he asked quietly in alarm.

"Draw back the curtains," Setzer whispered, and Locke nodded, releasing the heavy drapes of the canopy from their ties with lightning speed and drawing them about the bed, concealing the two.

"Bloody hell. I _knew_ this was a bad idea," Locke whispered.

"Be still," Setzer hissed. Privately, however, he found himself at last agreeing with Locke. He cursed himself for not having foreseen the likely possibility that they would not be the only ones who would attempt to surprise their gorgeous young king on his birthday, considering his bedroom saw more traffic than the port of South Figaro.

The footsteps grew closer, and Setzer instinctively grabbed the covers, but it was too late. The curtains slowly drew back, and a very shocked maiden in an emerald gown stood gaping at the pair of nude young men in disbelief, her face a deep shade of crimson.

"_Mon dieu!_" she gasped in Vectoran, and Setzer could only laugh. If Lady Luck had indeed deserted him for the night, he reasoned, he was going to take it in stride. He blew the girl a kiss, and grinned.

"_Bonsoir, mademoiselle,_" Setzer greeted her with a wink. She stood there lamely, and Locke buried his face in his hands in abject humiliation.

"You're a jackass, Setzer."

"I know."

"Who—who are you?" the young woman finally demanded. "And what are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you, cher," Setzer gently pointed out. Flustered, she quickly looked away, and raced out of the room. Locke sighed in relief, and shook his head.

"Such a jackass," he repeated. Setzer laughed, and kissed him again, nuzzling his neck.

"She left, didn't she?"

"And I think we should go too, while the going's good."

Setzer frowned. He knew Locke was right, and It was only a matter of time before any number of guards in their red and green livery descended upon them with swords. Prudence demanded they escape while they still could. However, Setzer was never one to put much stock in prudence. The danger of it all set his blood aflame, and the thrill excited him. He let his eyes deliberately travel the length of Locke's taut body.

"No need to be in such a rush, cher."

"The jig is up, Setzer. We got caught," Locke protested, but Setzer merely ignored him, planting kisses all over his face and drawing his hands across his body. "Are you even list…oh, gods." Locke shut his eyes, Setzer's mouth and hands distracting him in so many pleasant ways. As Setzer continued his sensual ministrations, he almost thought he heard more voices, but for some odd reason he simply couldn't bring himself to care at present. Then, there were more footsteps.

"I trust that is all for the evening, your Majesty? You appear to require some…privacy," an older-sounding gentleman said.

"One moment, Chancellor. I have a letter I need you to send to Vector in the morning," a slightly confused but very familiar voice answered.

"Of course, my liege."

There was a pause, and more footsteps.

"_Your Majesty!_"

Setzer froze, and slowly turned around to look at an elderly gentleman in a sober, dark mantle, who stood positively scandalized in the doorway. Well, this was a slight problem, the gambler thought.

"What is it, Montague?" Edgar raced over and looked askance at Setzer, his eyes wide "What on earth…?"

"Surprise," Setzer said sheepishly, and Locke finally got the presence of mind to pull the covers over them both.

"_Are you mad?_" Edgar cried, his hysterical voice reaching an octave Setzer didn't believe possible. He quickly turned to Lord Montague, who was staring askance at the pair. "This—this is an outrage. An absolute outrage. I have no idea who these two scoundrels are, and I demand a full investigation—"

"_Mon dieu_, Edgar," Setzer said with an roll of his eyes as he propped his head with his hand. "You're not fooling anyone, you know."

"Shut up, Gabbiani, before I have you hung," Edgar snapped.

"I'll fetch the rope from under the bed," Setzer cooed with a smirk. "Silk or hemp?"

"Sky pirate," Edgar muttered under his breath. He sighed, and shook his head.

"Lord Montague, I trust the knowledge of what you're seeing right now will not leave this room?"

"Of course, my king. What his Majesty does in the sanctity of his private chambers is no one's concern but his," Chancellor Montague said a bit stiffly, staring at Setzer and Locke in profound disapproval. "However, my liege, I would respectfully remind you that Figaro needs an heir, and neither of your…gentlemen callers can provide that."

"I humbly accept the wisdom of your council, my Lord, as always," Edgar said politely. "You are dismissed."

The Chancellor bolted from the royal apartment.

Edgar locked the doors behind him, and stood glaring at Locke and Setzer with his hands placed indignantly on his hips.

"I should throttle both of you, you know that?"

"It was all his idea," Locke said, pointing to Setzer. Edgar scowled.

"That lock on my door didn't pick itself, lover."

"Edgar, we only meant to surprise you because it was your birthday," Setzer said by way of apology. "We meant no harm." He suddenly grinned, and pulled back the covers.

Edgar smiled in defeat, leering at the two of them with those gorgeous baby blue eyes of his, the look that always drove Setzer mad with desire, and he knew it.

"May I join you, then? Far be it from me to interrupt the festivities." Edgar grinned, and began to strip.

"An it please the king," Setzer replied, and he and Locke gladly welcomed their king into their waiting arms.


End file.
